websites Dear Diary …
le site de rencontre pof I am aware that it is virtually impossible to get us to agree on just about anything anymore, but I think this is one we can all come together on. Democrat … Republican … Communist … all of us … can we band together just this one time and fight back against these unwanted newspapers that get thrown in our yards?
http://bannholz.net/masjanja/7538 Now let me be clear … I support the newspaper delivery people of the world. They’re my people … cuz they gotta work stupid random hours in the middle of the night like me. You I like, but the fact that they are making you toss unsolicited flyers, papers, and phone books on my yard … yeah that I don’t like.
rencontre des femmes roumaines Look … if I wanted the paper … I’d sign up for it. But I didn’t. So what I’m getting instead is litter. I’m sorry, but if I started “K92 Mornin’ Thang The Magazine” and just threw it on everybody’s front lawn, something tells me I’d be dealing with a lot of angry people.
rencontre ziguinchor And the phone book? Seriously … why are we even printing this thing anymore? Trees die for that thing. At the very least, these trees should be able to die for something more awesome like becoming a Starbucks holiday cup or rolling papers for Snoop Dogg’s entourage. But I’m over the litter and the waste!
schüchterner mann flirten Moving on Diary … I understand that things cost money. That everything costs money. But I also don’t wanna be duped into paying for things that I thought were free.
http://toyotadostlari.com/?pizdfer=rencontre-homme-celibataire-gratuit&30c=01 I recently went to the store and bought some soup. It was a cold day. I was feelin’ kinda crappy. Soup felt like the perfect lunch. So I went to one of the stores that has those big ol’ soup vats … full of cream of this or chicken with that. You know the deal. And since you know the deal, you know that soup ain’t cheap. It’s like six bucks for that bowl of soup.
site de rencontre handicap And I’m OK with that. I wanted soup. They have soup. So the price is the price. That’s not the problem.
conocer gente neiva The problem is that right next to the soup, they got this little basket with packets of crackers in them. No sign or anything, just a little basket basically saying, “Hey there soup lover … how ‘bout some crackers to go with your soup?”
OK little basket … that sounds like a good idea. I’ll take a packet of crackers.
So then I go to the register and they ring up my soup … and to my surprise … they ring up these crackers too. 25 cents! Now … don’t get me wrong … I’m not gonna go bankrupt for these 25 cent crackers, but there wasn’t no sign on the basket that said “25 cents” … instead it was just the friendly little basket saying “Hey … why don’t you take a little bit of me!”
And like I said … I know things cost money … but you gotta put a sign that says they do. I mean … I don’t pay for the spoon, and that sits in the same cute little basket, so why I gotta pay for the crackers?
You wanna charge? Fine! But you gotta put a price on them. Cuz if something doesn’t have a price tag, nor does it have a sign, then to ME … the prize is ZERO. You and your cracker conspiracy … building your empire one quarter at a time. I’m on to you!
Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye.